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穿过阴森破败的保罗大厦对面的那一条街,一个依稀的身影在纽约巨人球场出现。这是一个略微驼背的老头子,带着灰色的棒球帽,穿着一件肮脏的圆翻领运动衫和破旧的牛仔裤,步伐有些蹒跚,手里拽着一个装满了录像带的垃圾袋,这身装扮让他看起来就像是一个乞丐在流浪,而不是一个落寞的篮球国王重回他的宝座。“嘿,老头儿!你是瞎了还是怎么着?”一个年轻人生气地问道。他把篮球夹在腋下,一手指着头顶十月秋高气爽的天空说:“我们在打球呢!拖着你可怜的屁股滚开!”
Across the shabby Paul building opposite the street, a vague figure appeared in the New York Giants Stadium. This is a slightly humpbacked old man with a gray baseball cap, a dirty round lapel sweatshirt and taunts of worn jeans, a taddy hobby with a garbage bag full of videotapes Let him look like a beggar wandering, not a lonely basketball king to return to his throne. “Hey, old man! Are you blind or what?” A young man asked angrily. He clutched his basketball under his arm and pointed his head in the autumn sky in October, saying, “We’re playing! Drag your poor buttocks!”